


Super Spelunking

by Leathertramp



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leathertramp/pseuds/Leathertramp
Summary: Clint's antics often lead him to discovering plenty to gossip about with Natasha or to tease Tony with, sometimes things go differently. Sometimes super soldiers go red. More often than not, they won't tell you why. At the end of the day super soldiers are super unslick and dwell in super denial just plain superly. P.S. Clint is a pillow hoarder.





	

He strummed away gently, his back being absorbed more and more gradually by the many pillows he threw onto his bed. One was Natasha’s, most were Steve and Bucky’s, and none were Tony’s because, well, Tony doesn’t sleep. As for Hulk and Thor, he knew better than to even think about trying to get one of their pillows. In the end, the sheer amount he managed to ‘borrow’ from only three team members was simply impressive. ‘Who realistically needs 2 pillows?’ he thought to himself. The irony of that thought while resting on 5 pillows escaped him completely. So, he strummed on. 

Whenever he took out his guitar, he would repeat the same joke to whoever was near, even if they had heard it a million times already. ‘6 strings, huh?’ he would chuckle. ‘Does that mean I can fire 6 arrows at once?’ Miraculously so, his deafness seemed to transfer onto the poor avenger that had the misfortune to walk past. Then again, soon they might actually go deaf, seeing as how Clint played with the force of Hulk to even just faintly hear the music. Save for, of course, Tony, who was going deaf on his own accord by blasting music through his isolating headphones as he worked on whatever new gizmo he had envisioned. 

No one really knew if Tony realised it, but about 80% of his playlists consisted of breakup songs. There had been an unspoken accord between the Avengers, between friends, not to mention a certain basic spice.

As it had been about an hour of relaxed guitar playing, Clint finally felt a certain restlessness that had been building up for the past fifteen minutes or so. He decided to put his guitar away and return the pillows before the others returned. 

He had been rendered invisible and blind from the belt up by a mountain of pillows that he, stubbornly, decided to carry and bring back in one go. Naturally, regardless of his quick reflexes, he was bound to take a wrong step. However, the ‘wrong step’ was not taken by him, instead by Tony who, as spaciously oblivious as Clint with his headphones still on, collided with him. Tony low-key regretted coming up from his workplace for the first time in 4 days. 

In his sleep-deprived state of non-being, he found no energy nor fuck to form a frown whatsoever. Quickly after realising the situation however, his face was kick-started into shock. From one of the pillows, Clint had now also noticed, a set of pink, fluffy handcuffs had fallen. Surrounded by a feathery soft wall of white pillows, it stood out like the iris of an unblinking eye. As Tony’s mouth remained open, aghast, Clint had taken refuge in the bed of pillows that lay on the corridor floor. Laughing himself to death. He wanted so badly to grab a pillow to muffle his awkward, as he felt it was, laughing. Not knowing which ones were Steve and Bucky’s discouraged him in the fear of more ‘toys’ falling out. 

Tony’s face was now painted in a crimson hue. Quickly witted as he was, Clint remarked, ’Tony! Why are you wearing your suit? Oh wait, your suit’s not _that_ red!’   
His laughing now reached a pitch that even the Vision would register as an anomaly in reality. 

‘Oh god! Tony! Tony, I’m so sorry. That,’ his laughing interrupted almost his every word. ‘That was _so_ bad. I’m a joke _criminal_ , Tony. A _criminal_ , Tony! Cuff me, quickly!’

Unbeknownst to Clint, his face had taken on Tony’s shade of red and then some. The devil would be jealous. 

By now, Tony had wandered back in a zombie-like state of ‘wash my eyes with bleach, please’. 

Gathering himself, after about another 5 minutes of laughing, Clint wiped the tears from his eyes and started picking up the pillows again. He slipped the handcuffs in his back pocket and went on his way, mumbling to himself.

‘A joke criminal,’ he chuckled. ‘ _Cuff me._ ’

Finishing off his joke with a ‘that’s what Steve said!’ completely passed him by. If only he knew, he’d regret it. 

He managed to find his way to Steve’s room without falling. He knocked to make sure he wouldn’t be intruding on another _‘important information briefing’_ as the ‘Slick Super Soldiers’ called it. Not to mention the many _'late night training sessions'_. Natasha had always remarked they were as inconspicuous as late night gardening, both, she would laugh, had something to do with burying something in _dirt_. He couldn’t keep himself from laughing, remembering the many other zingers she had made. In the lack of a response from behind the door, he took the liberty of going in and leaving the two pillows he stole from Steve. He grabbed the handcuffs from his pocket when, suddenly, he realised. He had no idea if they were in Steve’s pillow or Bucky’s. The mind-numbing question would have broken him if he hadn’t been as incredibly smart as he was. Being a skilled tactician, a quick thinker and, of course, a bit of an amateur detective after catching up on ‘Elementary’, he managed to make the decision in half a second.

He simply dumped all four of their pillows on Steve’s bed and slipped the cuffs into one. _Fuck it._

With one pillow left to deliver he stepped out into the hallway. Natasha’s room was two doors past Bucky’s, which, for god knows what reason (they all knew why), was directly after Steve’s. 

Nearing Bucky’s door, Clint kept snickering harder and harder, he couldn’t help it. His chuckling was broken without hesitation when Bucky’s door opened just before he passed it. He heard a high pitched suction sound before Steve stepped out, wearing only his star spangled pyjama bottoms and a white tank top. He was smiling brightly. It was pretty cute all in all, Clint thought. Everyone did, really. No one could say anything though because, as Natasha put it, ‘The boys need to decide when to tell us. Let them play pretend for a little longer.’ Yet, she was still the loudest joker of the bunch. 

Everyone thought they would tell them out of sheer embarrassment after she had said at dinner, ‘It’s such a lovely thing that they named that navy ship after Milk. You know, the politician? The gay one? Gets me all hopeful for the country. Gay rights, and all that jazz. Gets me all gay and jolly. Makes me want to put on some feel good music, some Marvin Gaye or something.’ Steve and Bucky still had no idea of the bet going on. Whoever was the last one to make a joke before they come out wins a pizza party. Every time they didn’t manage, a dollar went into the jar. By now they could get about 97 pizzas for the party.

As Steve left Bucky’s room in a bright mood he noticed Clint, holding in a laugh with all his might, standing next to the door. Quickly, Steve’s face turned serious and he turned around to face Bucky. ‘Good training, Buck. It’s always good to be prepared in case we get attacked in our sleep. Good, uhm… Bed-based hold, very good. We’ll train more soon.’

Clint’s eyes focused past Steve, where Tony stood with a mug that read ‘I hate [blank]’, red and speechless yet again. 

‘I borrowed your and Bucky’s pillows, I didn’t know whose were whose so I just threw ‘em in your room.’

‘What do you mean, didn’t know whose were whose? They’re all the same, Clint.’

‘Well, ya know, some may _hold more_ than others. I don’t know, dreams or something.’

‘What?’ Bucky added in, hanging in the doorway.

‘Forget about it, Fucky.’ 

His horribly timed Freudian slip was met by two super soldier glares that were more piercing than any arrow he had ever shot. Coincidentally, they were also redder than any target he ever hit. Red, himself, and snickering more so, Clint quickly kept walking. He heard a door slam behind him and saw an empty hallway. 

‘Round two.’ He quipped at Tony, who just stood there, completely still.

‘Why do bad things happen to good people?’ Tony pleaded to the void. 

‘Doesn’t quite apply to you, robot boy,’ Clint joked, bumping his fist against Tony’s shoulder. ‘Join me to Natasha’s room to drop off her pillow and I’ll take you for shooting practice, distract ya.’

Tony only grumbled and turned around to join Clint. 

Unlike with Steve’s door, Clint simply threw Natasha’s door open without as much as a knock. 

‘Heads up!’

Natasha, who was reading on her bed, resting on only _one_ pillow, looked up in semi-surprise. Her eyes were met by a pillow travelling at high velocity. Faster than robot boy or lucky Luke could notice, she had thrown up her hand and stopped the pillow mid-air. 

‘Fucking badass.’ Clint remarked.

‘Total fucking badass.’ Tony followed suit. 

‘So you two stole my pillow, huh?’ Nat asked, cool as always. ‘Did you guys build a pillow fort too or something?’

‘I didn’t take anyth-, wait, too?’ Tony asked, puzzled.

‘Yea, like the two super bozos, they’ve build _Fort Denial._ ’ 

Both Nat and Clint broke down in laughter, Clint even grabbed on to Tony’s shoulder for support. 

He could only mutter ‘God dammit’ before Nat fell on the floor laughing, pulling her pillow down with her.

An otherwise unnoticeable ‘clank’ drew Tony’s attention.

From the pillow Nat had pulled down a set of pink, fluffy handcuffs had fallen. 

Clint went silent at the sight of it, the corners of his mouth drew further apart as he stood there with a grin the size of Steve’s biceps. 

Today seemingly had the theme of red faces, as Black Widow would now have to be known as Red Widow, lighting up like Scarlett Witch’s magic woo-ha. 

For the first time in a week’s time, Tony not only laughed, but had to cling onto the door as he wheezed, gasping for air in his laughing fit. 

‘They were yours?!’ Clint exclaimed.

‘Wait. Oh god, Clint,’ She answered as she frantically searched the other pillow. ‘Clint, where is the other pair?’

She almost yelled it. 

Tony, recovering from his laughter, broke in with the logic that had escaped Clint.

‘Clint! Why would they even use handcuffs? Those super fucks could easily break out of them!’ 

‘Oh my god, you put them in their room?’

‘Steve’s’ 

As it dawned on them all, a door slammed out of its hinges in the distance.

‘CLINT!’ Bucky’s voice boomed through the corridors.

 

Silence.

 

Nat chuckled, ‘Tony.’

‘What?’

‘ _Super fucks,_ ’

‘Oh, please. No.’

‘I think that’s a _super_ term. Real _super_. Like, it’s funny. It makes me happy, Tony. I’d even say _gay_ , Tony.’

‘ _Super_ gay,’ Clint chimed in.

‘Oh, for the love of- I’m going back to my cave.’

‘Your _cave_ , Tony?’ Clint chuckled.

‘They probably had some fun in caves too.’ Nat managed to say before breaking down in laughter again.

Surprisingly so, even after accidentally hinting at ‘we know’ without wanting to, the totally straight super soldiers still went _‘night training’_ , which Nat now aptly referred to as _super spelunking_.


End file.
